


I Get Delirious Whenever You're Near

by ionsquare



Series: Impromptu Domestic Sexual Karaoke [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Derek Hale, Crack, Established Relationship, Fingerfucking, Future Fic, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Fixation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scenting, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Top Stiles Stilinski, light comeplay, voyeurism kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 22:42:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionsquare/pseuds/ionsquare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Prince is playing anywhere, sex is going to happen. <i>All</i> the sex will happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Get Delirious Whenever You're Near

**Author's Note:**

> I had no idea it'd been a week since the last part was posted! Writing all this smut takes a lot of out of me, lemme tell ya. Once again we have bottom!Derek and surprise guest: Danny Mahealani. But there is no threesome action happening; sorry! I think I subconsciously wrote Danny in after all the Danny/Stiles fic I've been reading. It happens.
> 
> Any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone. 
> 
> Copyright property is as follows: _Slow_ \- Kylie Minogue, Dan Carey  & Emilíana Torrini; _Delirious_ & _Little Red Corvette_ \- Prince.

**I. Allison’s dorm building, around midnight.**  
  
At this point, it’s a game. The craziest, sexiest game Stiles has been involved in since that truth or dare game in fifth grade. If you had asked Stiles, then, would those seven minutes in heaven in a closet with Annie Matthews be the best of his life, it’d be a total lie. This (can it even be _called_ a game? Stiles wonders) _game_ with Derek, and the pop songs, and having immensely hot sex with Derek, it’s slowly spiraling out of control.  
  
And honestly, Stiles can’t even muster up any fucks to give, not when Derek is blowing Stiles’ brains out through his cock.  
  
In the unisex bathroom of Allison’s dorm building.  
  
Allison had left Stiles a message letting him know about a party happening at her dorm. There was no point and no theme, just bring your own beer and have fun. Stiles was definitely down with that, because he really needed a break. He needed to unwind, and Stiles knew Derek would be onboard, too.  
  
It was a series of, well, highly tense events that led Stiles and Derek to the bathroom. Seriously, Stiles thinks, what is it about a bathroom setting that makes sex even filthier? A really hot filthy, if he’s perfectly honest with himself.  
  
The icing on the cake was someone, Allison or Lydia, popping in a Kylie Minogue CD, and maybe it was the atmosphere and all the alcohol, but Stiles started dancing. Near Derek. On Derek. Any which way but loose, Stiles was invading Derek’s personal space, pecking Derek’s mouth, coaxing kisses from him.  
  
“Stiles,” Derek has to lean in so Stiles will hear him. “Don’t get feisty.”  
  
Stiles pulls back, grinning, licking his lips. “My lips are tingly. Tingly, tingly, tingly,” Stiles giggles uncontrollably, plastering himself against Derek. “Slow down and dance with me,” Stiles sings, loudly, hands clasped at the back of Derek’s neck, pulling him closer. “ _Yeah_ ,” Stiles sings, mouthing along Derek’s mouth, tongue sliding over his lower lip. “ _Slow_.”  
  
Derek exhales softly against Stiles’ mouth, starts kissing him, hips undulating to the beat of the music. He’s on a sensory overload right now, too many smells hitting him at once, but Derek zeros in on Stiles’ scent; focused, target acquired.  
  
They start dancing, just moving their bodies in a slow, teasing rhythm, hips bumping together, hands trailing down the other’s body, fingertips brushing too hot skin.  
  
Stiles can feel a drop of sweat sliding down the small of his back, and his mind is so foggy with alcohol he can’t really think straight. Drives him crazy that Derek can’t feel any effects of alcohol even though he drinks like a fucking fish.  
  
“Let the rhythm pull you in,” Stiles sings, letting Derek kiss him, groaning at the languid movement of Derek’s mouth on his. “It’s here,” Stiles grinds his crotch into Derek’s, panting, temples wet with sweat. “So touch it.”  
  
So, you know, that’s how they wound up in the unisex bathroom. Derek wasting _no time_ in getting Stiles’ pants unbuttoned, unzipped, tugging them off Stiles’ hips.  
  
“Oh, fuck, Derek,” Stiles grabs Derek’s face needing to kiss him, his mouth wet and clumsy on Derek’s, his eagerness making him anxious. “Are you going to blow me?” Derek nods and Stiles is nodding with him, head thumping back on the wall. “Okay,” Stiles licks his lips. “Blow me, Derek,” Stiles urges, pushing down on Derek’s shoulders.  
  
Derek growls, rolling his shoulders. “I _got this_ , Stiles. Just shut up and fuck my mouth when I tell you. Think you can do that?”  
  
“ _Bossy_ ,” Stiles sticks his tongue out. “Give me a break, I’m kinda drunk.”  
  
Derek laughs, dropping to his knees. “Kinda? I don’t think so, Stilinski.”  
  
“That’s so fucking hot. I love when you call me Stilinski, it means something hot is about to happen.”  
  
Derek starts stroking Stiles’ cock, quick pulls that have Stiles whimpering already, and Derek doesn’t stop him when he kips his hips forward. Stiles’ cock is already beginning to flush red, and Derek takes him in his mouth, right to the base.  
  
“ _Oh fuck_ ,” Stiles grips the back of Derek’s head, holding him right where he’s at. Derek, taking his cue, begins sucking his cock. Stiles bites the knuckles of his other hand, watching Derek’s head bob back and forth, his other hand coming up to stroke as he sucks.  
  
The stall door bangs open, and everything comes to a stop.  
  
“Shit, sorry -- Stiles?” Danny Mahealani’s surprised voice asks.  
  
Derek pulls back a little, tongue licking around the tip, flicking his gaze up to Stiles’ face.  
  
Stiles looks down at Derek, and then to Danny.  
  
“Can I,” Stiles presses his lips together, biting back a moan. “Can I help you, Danny?”  
  
Danny swallows, eyes fixed on the back of Derek’s head. “I didn’t. I was just. I didn’t--”  
  
“Danny?”  
  
“Stiles?” Danny chokes out, clearing his throat.  
  
“My boyfriend is a little busy right now, and I need you to leave. Right now.”  
  
Danny nods quickly. “Yeah, _yeah_ , right,” he stops, thinks. “Right. Leave.”  
  
But nothing stops Derek, mouth parting around Stiles’ cock before pulling off all the way, blowing gently on Stiles’ now saliva slick cock. He holds Stiles’ gaze as bends his head, tongue licking along the tight, straining vein underneath.  
  
Stiles moans, and _fuck_ , Danny still hasn’t fucking left.  
  
“ _Danny_ , go find someone to blow you.”  
  
“Right, sorry. I’m... going,” Danny licks his lips. “Um, enjoy. That.”  
  
Stiles laughs, body jerking when Derek swallows his cock all the way in his mouth again, can feel Derek’s chin pressed near his balls. “Oh, trust me, I always enjoy it.” And thank _fuck_ Danny finally leaves, because Stiles can spread his legs wider, both hands gripping Derek’s hair now.  
  
“Mother _fucker_. I can’t believe you just kept going,” Stiles grits out, fingers tugging hard on Derek’s hair.  
  
Derek grunts, scraping blunt (human, thankfully) teeth over Stiles’ cock, fingers kneading into Stiles’ now shaking thighs, holding him still. He spends an inordinate amount of time just lazily sucking Stiles’ cock, not moving his head too much so that he can stay close, pressed between Stiles’ spread legs.  
  
Stiles’ limbs feel heavy, like he’s floating in some kind of abyss that’s nothing but the hot, wet suction of Derek’s mouth. To keep himself from sliding down to the floor, Stiles has to keep one hand on the wall while the other rests at the back of Derek’s head, guiding him. Stiles doesn’t need to guide Derek, but he likes to, and Derek likes when Stiles does it.  
  
“ _Fuck_! Derek, god, don’t... don’t _stop_ ,” Stiles’ voice is nothing but a garbled, choking sound. He grips his fingers tight in Derek’s hair, fucking Derek’s mouth. Stiles can hear, _feel_ , Derek moaning, sucking Stiles’ cock down his throat. Stiles doesn’t make it gentle either, hips snapping forward, mouth parted watching Derek take it, take his cock. He feels his balls draw up tight, too soon, Stiles thinks, but he’s still buzzing and now _this_ , it’s quickly becoming too much.  
  
“Derek,” Stiles groans, squeezing the back of Derek’s neck.

Derek only hums, taking Stiles in further, throat constricting a little to accommodate for Stiles fucking into his mouth, but he doesn’t stop. Derek can already taste come on his tongue, lips straining as he sucks harder, head bobbing faster.  
  
Stiles has had some pretty intense, surreal orgasms, this time is definitely top five. He almost blacks out when he comes, cock shoved so deep in Derek’s mouth he’s surprised Derek can swallow. Every few seconds Stiles’ body will jerk; literal orgasmic aftershocks. Derek is gently licking Stiles clean, and fuck, Stiles isn’t sure if he should be turned on or weirded out, because of reasons. But Derek’s tongue feels _so good_ , licking his cock with quick, easy flicks of his tongue.  
  
“Hamuhgod,” Stiles mumbles, fucking spent.  
  
Derek snorts, pulling back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s so electric,” Derek sings, belatedly.  
  
Stiles laughs hard, tugging Derek up to kiss him.  
  
It’s about an hour later when Stiles runs into Danny, again, only this time his pants aren’t down around his knees.  
  
“Danny,” Stiles says with a nod, sipping his drink. “How, uh, how’s it going?”  
  
“Stiles, I’m really, _really_ sorry about earlier.”  
  
Stiles waves the apology away. “Don’t worry about it, dude. Totally cool.”  
  
Danny glances over Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles looks back, and there’s Derek, watching them closely and not paying attention to what Scott is saying to him.  
  
“It’s cool, Danny,” Stiles turns back to him, grinning. “He’s not mad.”  
  
Danny fidgets uncomfortably. “He looks like he wants to _eat me_ , Stiles.”  
  
Stiles snorts, trying not to spew. “He can also hear you, Danny.” That’s another thing about his friendship with Danny now, that he knows about werewolves. They sort of _had to_ tell Danny and Lydia after what happened with Jackson; it only brought him and Lydia closer, which was what they both needed.  
  
“Shit, right. It’s hard to keep up with all the eccentricities,” Danny says, still fidgeting.  
  
“Derek’s _not_ going to eat you, and I swear he’s not mad,” Stiles squeezes Danny’s shoulder. “He’s pretty docile once you get him to roll over and show his belly.”  
  
Danny starts laughing hard but stops immediately when Derek walks up behind Stiles.  
  
Stiles smirks at Derek, rubbing circles on Derek’s belly. “See, Danny? Docile.”  
  
Derek glares at Stiles, sliding a hand up Stiles’ back squeezing the back of his neck, hard. “We better get going. I’ve got work and you’re having lunch with your dad.”  
  
“Right, yeah. Well, Danny, see you again soon?” Stiles reaches for Derek’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Maybe next time I’ll be wearing pants the whole time.”  
  
Danny starts laughing but ends up coughing at the intimidating look on Derek’s face. “Sure,” he winces.  
  
Stiles rolls his eyes at Derek, tugging him away. “Come on, big bad wolf.”  
  
Derek gives Danny a curt nod. “Take care of yourself, Danny.”  
  
Before they get too far, Danny stops them. “Hey, Stiles?”  
  
Stiles spins around, waiting.  
  
“My answer is yes -- you _are_ attractive to gay guys.”  
  
Stiles glances at Derek with a slow smile. “Yeah, I kinda already knew that.”  
  
 **II. Hale’s Auto and Restoration, mid-afternoon** **.**  
  
It’s the weekend, and Stiles finished his Anthropology test early, so he decided to surprise Derek at work. With food, obviously; and sex, maybe. Okay, definitely sex, but he knows they’ll get there eventually.  
  
Derek’s been restoring a ‘64 Ford Mustang for the last three weeks now, and Stiles is pretty amped to see how it’s coming along. Stiles likes cars well enough, and he knows enough about them to talk shop with Derek, but he doesn’t _care_ about cars like him. Derek is a savant when it comes to restoring cars. He’s meticulous about his work, and Stiles, if anything, can respect that, because he’s the same way with school.  
  
Whistling happily to himself, Stiles steps out of his Jeep, greasy bag of burgers in hand. He tried to save the milkshake for Derek, he really did, but the strawberry deliciousness taunted him until he could no longer resist.  
  
Stiles takes a minute to smile up at the sign: _Hale’s Auto and Restoration_. Yeah, he’s proud of his boyfriend.  
  
“I guess you’re not sharing the milkshake?” Derek steps out of the garage, boots kicking up dirt walking toward Stiles.  
  
Stiles drinks in the sight of Derek while fiercely sucking down his milkshake. Derek, who’s all sweaty, bulging muscle, particularly his biceps. Stiles thinks about running his tongue along the protruding vein, straw squeaking in his mouth as he sucks harder. Derek, who’s currently covered in soot, grease, jeans oil stained and pulling _tight_ on his thighs as he walks. Stiles has a killer brain freeze happening right now but he _can’t stop_ sucking on the straw, eyes zeroing in on Derek’s crotch.  
  
There are _sweat stains_ on the insides of Derek’s jeans and Stiles is going to faint.  
  
Derek smirks, licking his lips. “Are you done?”  
  
“Hmn?” Stiles slowly lifts his gaze from Derek’s crotch to his face. “What?”  
  
Derek watches Stiles’ mouth part from the straw, tongue sliding out to catch the ice cream bubbling up before it hits his hand. And then Stiles finds it necessary to swirl the straw with his tongue before his lips give another squeaky suck. Derek reaches down to adjust himself, staring straight ahead at Stiles.  
  
“Kinky,” Stiles grins, teeth biting down on the straw. “I brought you food, and myself. Mostly me. Finished a test early and thought I’d surprise you.”  
  
“You brought yourself?” Derek asks, taking the bag from him.  
  
“Yes, for deviant sexual situations. I mean really, we’re both horny as fuck right now.”  
  
Derek shakes his head. “You’ve already given that straw a blowjob, think you can go another round?”  
  
“You haven’t seen anything yet, Hale,” Stiles brushes past Derek, popping him on the ass before stepping into the garage. “Now show me the Mustang, and I’m not talking about your penis.”  
  
“Really, Stiles?” Derek pulls out a stool sitting down. “Still with the jokes about my penis?”  
  
“Well it _is_ a very nice penis. I know I certainly enjoy it,” Stiles grins at him, checking out the Mustang. “Holy shit, this thing didn’t have any kind of trunk! How’d you do that?”  
  
Derek takes a big bite of a burger. “Took a week and a lot of welding.”  
  
Stiles’ eyes pop at the sleek new white leather seats void of cigarette burns. “This is seriously impressive, Derek.”  
  
“Thanks,” Derek mumbles around another bite, cheeks pink.  
  
“You’re cute when you blush.”  
  
Derek flips him off, finishing off one burger and going for number two. “Thanks for the food, I was starving.”  
  
“No problem. You know, I’m still mad you didn’t take none of our suggestions to heart when you were trying to name this place,” Stiles says, peeking under the hood now.  
  
“I was _not_ naming this place Rev My Engine.”  
  
“Excuse me, what about Ashes  & Lube?”  
  
Derek rolls his eyes. “I think that one was the worst. I still haven’t forgiven Isaac for it.”  
  
“I think my favorite one was Lydia’s,” Stiles snickers. “Naked Wrench Handler.”  
  
Derek groans audibly. “I’d forgotten about that one. Thanks, really, thanks for that.”  
  
“Lydia Martin knows the way to my heart: naked men wielding wrenches,” Stiles says, smiling fondly.  
  
Derek quirks an eyebrow. “Naked men wielding wrenches or naked _me_ wielding a wrench?” He chucks the wrappers in the trash, walking over to the mini fridge for a beer.  
  
“That’s just mean. You can’t just say something like that and not deliver the goods.”  
  
Derek downs his beer as fast as he can, practically slamming the bottle down on the workbench. “And you just assume I’m not going to deliver?”  
  
Stiles swallows, holding Derek’s gaze as Derek walks up to him. He can feel Derek’s body heat from how close they’re standing, and in this moment he sort of understands how Derek feels when Derek scents him. Derek runs hot all the time, but sometimes, Stiles can feel it for himself. He tilts his head a little when Derek starts brushing his nose along his jawline, down his neck, Derek’s tongue peeking out to lick at the crook of Stiles’ neck.  
  
“You smell like lemons,” Derek says.  
  
“Dad sent me new soap,” Stiles tilts his head to the side a bit more, licking his lips. “Care package.”  
  
“I like when you smell like Irish Spring much more,” Derek kisses him, slowly, teeth nipping.  
  
Stiles licks into Derek’s mouth kissing him back. “What about when I’m aroused?” He murmurs against Derek’s mouth.  
  
“Cinnamon and clover,” Derek swallows, memory sense reminding him of what the smell does to him. “Sandalwood, when you’re thinking about my wolf.”  
  
Stiles kisses Derek hard, hands resting on Derek’s hips, thumbs pressing on his hipbones. “That’s... really hot.”  
  
Derek smirks, hips bucking against Stiles’ hands. “That’s pheromones. _Your_ pheromones.”  
  
Stiles tugs on Derek’s shirt. “Do you still have that bottle of lube here?”  
  
Derek growls, low and feral, Stiles’ scent spiking as he becomes more and more aroused. “It’s in the bottom left drawer. Any reason why?”  
  
“And everyone’s gone for the day?” Stiles asks.  
  
“ _Everyone’s_ gone for the day,” Derek answers, tugging on the belt loops of Stiles’ jeans.  
  
“Go get the lube, and when you come back? Strip,” Stiles’ voice is edges close to demanding. “And then I’m going to fuck you,” Stiles taps the Mustang. “Bent over right here.”  
  
Derek narrows his eyes. “If we mess up this car in any way?” He leans in close to Stiles’ face, reaching around to slap Stiles’ ass. “I’m spanking you.”  
  
“Promise?” Stiles drawls, obviously turned on at the thought.  
  
Derek stalks away with a grunt, disappearing into the back office. All the air rushes out of Stiles with a _whoosh_ , and holy shit, now he does want to mess the car up. The thought of Derek _spanking him_ is too much for Stiles to handle; fuck, he really wants Derek to spank him.  
  
Derek’s heavy footfalls bring Stiles out of his thoughts, taking note that he sets the bottle of lube on top of the toolbox. Neither of them say a word as Derek starts taking his clothes off, t-shirt first. Stiles likes how dirty his shirt is, likes that Derek obviously uses it more as a hand rag then anything. Stiles remembers to inhale and exhale slowly while his eyes enjoy the sweaty look happening uptop Derek’s body, his mouth going dry watching Derek unzip his pants.  
  
“Go slow,” Stiles says hoarsely.  
  
And Derek does, holding one side of his pants dragging the zipper down.  
  
“No, not yet,” Stiles stops Derek before he can take his pants off. “Touch yourself first.”  
  
“Throw me the lube,” Derek says, hand sliding inside his pants, rubbing his cock against his palm.  
  
Stiles chucks it at him and Derek catches it easily. “By the way,” Derek pulls his cock, bicep flexing as he grips himself hard, stroking. “Not wearing any underwear.”  
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” Stiles whispers, hands gripping the hood of the car. Derek stands there, confident, proud, keeping his arm just above his hip as he strokes himself, and Stiles cannot wait to fuck him. Derek purses his lips like he’s doing fucking lamaze breathing or some shit, Stiles thinks. He starts to pick up the pace, fisting his cock in his hand, and Stiles is mesmerized; that’s all there is to it.  
  
“Stop,” Stiles commands. “Decided I want you to keep the pants on. And the boots.”  
  
Derek’s nostrils flare. “Indecisive little shit.”  
  
Stiles smirks at that, eyes narrowing just a little. “Get over here, Hale.”  
  
Derek walks over, glaring at Stiles head-on, back to Stiles now as he places his hands down on the hood of the car, bent over slightly.  
  
Stiles blows out a quick breath walking over to grab the bottle of lube, setting it down on the hood beside Derek’s left hand, fingertips brushing up his arm. “You can keep touching yourself.”  
  
Derek looks at him sidelong and then back down, fingers wrapping back around his cock, picking up at the pace where he was, groaning softly.  
  
Stiles slides a finger down the center of Derek’s back, hooking it over the back of his pants, tugging them down, reaching inside to squeeze his ass in both hands. He can tell Derek’s stroking harder now responding to Stiles’ touch. Dropping down on his knees, Stiles slowly starts to pull down Derek’s pants, stopping to kiss each bit of newly exposed skin. First, a kiss on the small of Derek’s back, over the curve of his ass, gripping Derek’s thighs placing a kiss there too. Derek’s pants are pooled around his ankles now, and Stiles thinks it’s so fucking hot the way Derek looks, knees bent and legs spread, jerking himself off -- for Stiles.  
  
“Want my mouth?” Stiles asks him, rubbing his hands up and down Derek’s legs.  
  
“Yeah,” Derek whispers, biting back a moan.  
  
Stiles licks his lips. “Here?” Stiles grips Derek’s wrist, fingers reaching to twine with Derek’s.  
  
Derek answers with a shake of his head.  
  
“ _Mmn_ , well then,” Stiles says agreeably. “I guess you mean,” Stiles fingers grip tight on Derek’s ass, kneading, thumbs spreading him open. “Here,” Stiles breathes across Derek’s hole, licking one long, wet stripe up to the cleft of his ass.  
  
“ _God_ , yes,” Derek whines, leaning down further on the car, left hand squeaking on the hood as the right keeps fisting his cock.  
  
“Stop touching yourself, Derek. Both hands on the hood.” Stiles is glad he doesn’t need to tell him twice, and Derek does what’s asked, even spreading his legs wider. “That’s good, Derek. So fucking good,” Stiles murmurs.  
  
Stiles starts slow, easing into it with gentle flicks of his tongue. He’ll get filthy soon enough, but right now Stiles just wants to take his time. For being so sweaty and greasy Derek is still clean, but musky, and Stiles buries his nose against his ass fucking his tongue into him. If Stiles could count Rimming Derek Hale as a hobby he totally fucking would, and Derek _loves it_. Stiles digs his fingers harder into Derek’s ass, pulling back just enough to watch Derek clench, hole wet with Stiles’ saliva. “So fucking hot,” Stiles says, pushing a thumb inside Derek’s ass, and the _noise_ , it’s fucking hot.  
  
“ _Stiles_ , your mouth,” Derek whimpers, pushing back.  
  
How can he say no to that? Stiles pulls his thumb out replacing it with his tongue, rolling out of his mouth, tip of his tongue circling Derek’s hole. He gives Derek a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, eating him out. Stiles has his mouth spread wide on his ass, tongue and lips working together to make Derek clench, because it feels fucking great, Stiles thinks. His fingers, Stiles is sure if not for Derek’s super healing, would be leaving bruises on Derek’s ass with how hard he’s gripping. Derek is moaning, whimpering even, as he keeps pushing back against Stiles’ mouth.  
  
“Fuck, Stiles!” Derek shouts, slumping forward on his forearms. “Don’t stop, don’t stop...”  
  
Pulling back, mouth and chin wet, Stiles slides two fingers inside Derek. “Oh, I don’t plan on it,” Stiles says licking his numb, red lips.  
  
 _“From the year 1982, by request, here’s Prince with ‘Delirious’.”_  
  
Stiles wasn’t even aware the radio was on, in fact, he _knows_ it wasn’t on. Which means... “Derek, did you turn the radio on?”  
  
Derek, distracted, fucking himself on Stiles’ scissoring fingers, says, “yes, I did. _Obviously_.”  
  
That, that is way too much for Stiles at the moment, because Stiles knows he obviously did it in case some random pop song started playing. This is definitely a _thing_ with them now, with the music.  
  
“I get delirious whenever you’re near,” Stiles sings along with Prince. What the fuck is his life right now? Stiles pushes his fingers in deeper, fucking Derek harder, tongue licking around his fingers. “My temperature’s runnin’ hot,” Stiles sings, pulling his fingers out and the sound is so wet it makes his cock throb harder. Stiles presses up closer behind Derek, fingers wet holding him open as he practically tongue fucks Derek’s hole. His jaw starts to ache but Stiles keeps going, wants to make Derek come like this _so much_ , with just his mouth.  
  
Derek shudders, slamming a palm on the hood. “I can’t stop,” he breathes out, “I ain’t got no brakes.” And then Derek starts shouting Stiles’ name, can’t fucking _take it_ anymore, jerking himself off as he starts coming -- all over the Mustang.  
  
Stiles pulls back with a gasp, mouth and lips shiny, tapping Derek on his thigh. “Turn around _now_.” Derek, come still dripping from his cock, turns around, and Stiles smacks Derek’s hand away taking his cock in his mouth.  
  
The song comes to an end, but Derek still sings, “Cuz if you don’t I’m gonna explode.”  
  
Stiles’ head bobs fast, mouth pulling back to the tip, wrapping a hand around the base to stroke and tug. Derek tastes sour and musky right now, and it’s driving Stiles crazy, mouth popping off with a wet pop.  
  
“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek moans, head tipped back.  
  
He knows Derek won’t come again so soon, but Stiles just can’t help himself, wants to _taste_. Tongue licking along the popped veins of Derek’s cock, taking his time with that long one underneath, even scraping his teeth against it. And that does it for Derek, Stiles bringing Derek’s cock back in his mouth tasting the blurts of come Derek is practically squeezing out for him.  
  
Derek pushes on Stiles’ shoulder. “Break. Please.”  
  
Stiles gives a little whine, watching another little blurt of come hit the ground. “I hate being wasteful, Derek.”  
  
Derek is panting, skin flushed from his orgasm. “You’re the worst.”  
  
“But the best,” Stiles grins, standing up.  
  
Derek lifts his chin. “Your turn.” Derek tugs Stiles forward, almost ripping open Stiles’ pants shoving a hand inside, groping for him, fingers squeezing and tugging.  
  
Stiles bucks into his hand, bracing his hands on Derek’s shoulders. “Really, _really_ want that spanking thing to happen,” Stiles admits.  
  
Derek grins, thumb pressing on the slit and Stiles make a wonderful noise; Derek does it again. “I will spank you if you ask.”  
  
Stiles’ eyelids droop, thrusting into Derek’s hand. “God, Derek, yes. Want you to spank me.” He locks eyes with Derek, who has this dark, intense look on his face, and it makes Stiles come with a spasm. Derek’s kissing him now, and Stiles wraps his arms around his neck, their cocks brushing together. Stiles wiggles his hips when he feels Derek tugging down his pants, still kissing him deeply.  
  
Derek brings a hand down on Stiles’ ass so hard Stiles _knows_ there’s a handprint there now.  
  
“ _Uhngh_ ,” is Stiles’ response. He doesn’t know what to say, no fucking idea what to say, but Derek does it again, and then one more time. Each slap is a searing, stinging pain that sends a jolt of white hot pleasure through Stiles, hiding his face in Derek’s neck. He receives two more stinging slaps and a soft kiss on his cheek.  
  
Stiles feels fucking drugged up when he lifts his head. “This is my,” he licks his lips, “new favorite thing.”  
  
Derek nips his chin, slapping Stiles’ ass again.  
  
“Oh _fuck_ , Derek,” Stiles groans, making a yelping laughing sound when that earns him another slap. “Going to fuck you so hard,” Stiles warns, gritting his teeth. “So hard you fucking asshole.”  
  
Derek softly pats Stiles’ ass, squeezing. “You better.”  
  
Stiles pushes away from Derek, grabbing the bottle of lube. “Enough pussy footing around, Hale. Bend over for me.” Stiles squirts some lube on his palm, attention on stroking himself at the moment, glancing at Derek -- who still hasn’t turned around.  
  
“Did you _not_ hear me?”  
  
Derek licks his lips. “I can’t watch my boyfriend getting himself ready to fuck me?”  
  
Stiles feels an ache in his chest at _my boyfriend_ , because that’s what he always lovingly, and jokingly, calls Derek. They don’t do pet names, so hearing Derek say it, nonchalant like that, with that easy smile on his face, Stiles’ heart just swells.  
  
“Of course,” Stiles clears his throat.  
  
“Stiles, come here.”  
  
Stiles closes the distance between them, and then Derek’s kissing him, cupping his face and everything. When Derek pulls away Stiles’ lips are still parted, slightly puckered, and Derek pecks his mouth, just because. “Now, fuck my brains out.” Derek turns around bracing his hands back on the hood, making sure to spread his legs wide, arching his back so his ass curves up towards Stiles, ready and waiting.  
  
“You are so fucking hot right now,” Stiles says hoarsely. He slicks up two fingers slowly working them inside Derek’s ass, Stiles already got him good and loose, but he can’t help himself.  
  
“Come _on_ you fucking cock tease,” Derek bites out. “ _Fuck me_ , Stiles. I’m _ready_.”  
  
Stiles pulls Derek back hard, letting his cock slide over the cleft of Derek’s ass, still holding out, bringing Derek to the brink until he has him begging.  
  
Derek pushes back with a whine, reaching back gripping Stiles’ hip. “ _Stiles_ , please. _Please_ , fuck me, need you to fuck me so bad.”  
  
He loves hearing Derek say his name like that, broken and begging, especially when he’s begging Stiles to fuck him. Stiles holds his cock, lining himself up, thighs resting against Derek’s as he pushes in with a slow thrust. Stiles keeps both hands on Derek’s waist, thumbs pressing at the small of Derek’s back, already going with quick, deep thrusts.  
  
Derek bows his head with a moan, hips undulating meeting Stiles’ pace, and Stiles is pressed close enough that he can almost seat himself on Stiles. Stiles’ hands feel so heavy, _feels right_ , and he forces his body to slow down any healing; wants Stiles to _mark him_.  
  
Stiles jack-knifes his hips, balls slapping against Derek, and he’s never gotten this desperate before, but Derek feels so fucking good right now. His hole fucked open and loose from Stiles’ mouth and tongue, the memory of it making Stiles thrust harder and Derek clench.  
  
 _“Here’s another one from Prince. From 1982 here’s ‘Little Red Corvette’.”_  
  
Stiles had forgotten about the radio still being on, but he does recall hearing muffled noises coming from the back office, and now it’s fucking Prince _again_. This is _seriously_ his life right now.  
  
“Love’em and leave’em fast,” Derek stutters out.  
  
 _Fuck_ , Stiles thinks, leaning down to lick up the center of Derek’s back, hips snapping forward thrusting faster. Derek meets his rhythm perfectly, watching as Derek rests his chest down on the car, completely spread under Stiles now. He looks so fucking hot, just taking it, taking every single hard thrust Stiles is giving him. Stiles bites down on his shoulder, waiting for the mark to begin to fade, but when it doesn’t Stiles _knows_.  
  
“Little red corvette,” Stiles sings, jaw clenching. “Baby you’re much too fast.” Stiles rakes his nails down Derek’s back, and the sound Derek makes is entirely inhuman, and for a split second Stiles thinks Derek is going to wolf out.  
  
Stiles stands back up, hands gripping Derek’s ass, arching back and snapping forward, and Stiles knows he’s right where Derek needs him to be. He rests a hand on Derek’s back, stilling himself, guiding Derek back on his cock.  
  
“That’s it, Derek,” Stiles coaxes. They spend a few minutes like that, Derek fucking himself on Stiles’ cock as Stiles guides him, both of them moaning. “Yeah, come on,” Stiles urges Derek, fingers digging into his hips.  
  
“You need a love that’s gonna last,” Derek’s voice drops with a moan, panting. “Faster, Stiles,” he breathes out.  
  
“ _A body like yours_ ,” the radio crackles out. “Like yours,” Stiles echoes. “ _Oughta be in jail_ ,” and Stiles practically grins singing the next part. “Cuz it’s on the verge of bein’ obscene.” Stiles slows down long enough to tug a foot out of his jeans, bringing it up on the front of the car, and _fuck yes_ that’s what he needed. The angle is just right now for Stiles to fuck Derek deeper, while Derek arches up and back against Stiles for more. Stiles holds onto Derek’s waist and he’s thrusting so hard the car creaks under their combined weight.  
  
Derek’s forehead hits the hood of the car with a thunk, moaning loud when Stiles hits just right, and he doesn’t miss it now each time he thrusts. “Fuck, Stiles, _fuck_!”  
  
Stiles is fucking up into Derek so hard now, and he can feel come sliding down his thigh where Derek’s leaking. Both of them are sweaty, skin slapping against skin as they buck and rock together in a frenzied need, and Stiles doesn’t stop thrusting as hard as Derek needs it; _wants it_. Parts of Derek’s skin have red scrapes from Stiles’ nails and tiny bruises from where he’s gripped him so tight, and none of them have faded.  
  
“Gonna run your little red corvette right in the ground,” Stiles grits out each word between each thrust.  
  
Derek tries to hold on, but Stiles jack-knifing his hips like that sends him over the edge. He comes all over the grille of the Mustang, coming so hard his knees buckle, almost collapsing under Stiles. Derek stays bent over for Stiles as he continues to fuck him, thin lines of come dripping from the tip of his cock, wishing so much that Stiles was there licking it all up.  
  
Stiles bares his teeth, holding onto Derek’s ass with sweaty hands, desperate for release. Derek spreads his legs a little more, looking over his shoulder at Stiles, red-faced and sweating with exertion. Derek slowly eases back into it, clenching on Stiles’ cock. “C’mon, Stiles, c’mon.  
  
Squeezing his eyes shut, the last bars of Little Red Corvette ringing in his eyes, Stiles starts to come. With each burst Stiles thrusts deep, hitting Derek’s prostate, reaching down to grip his cock slowly, slowly pulling out, letting the tip stay snug in Derek’s hole. Derek rocks back just a little, _feeling_ the come hitting his hole as Stiles rubs the tip there, the backs of his thighs sticky now.  
  
Stiles watches the come slide down the cleft of Derek’s ass as he keeps pushing the tip of his cock at Derek’s hole, teasing him.  
  
“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek’s voice cracks.  
  
“Shh, s’okay,” Stiles says softly, pressing his chest to Derek’s back. He drops his foot to the floor, and him and Derek both exhale together. Stiles brushes his nose along Derek’s back, tongue licking the lines of his triskele.  
  
“I’m gonna try to tame your little red love machine,” Derek murmurs, body shaking as he laughs. Stiles joins in, kissing his shoulder. Stiles doesn’t know how much time passes, but when he and Derek can finally move, they take their time getting dressed and cleaned up. A couple times they pause to kiss, and it’s nice and slow after the fast-paced sex.  
  
Right now they’re making out against Stiles’ Jeep, and Stiles has his hands tucked in the back pockets of Derek’s jeans, keeping him close.  
  
Derek lips at Stiles’ mouth as he pulls away, dropping a little peck to the corner of his mouth. “Heading back now?”  
  
“Don’t want to,” Stiles says, bringing Derek back in for another hot, open-mouthed kiss. “But I have a test in the morning,” Stiles frowns. “Wanna stay here, with you.”  
  
“Mmn,” Derek hums in agreement. “We’ll see one another again. Soon.”  
  
Stiles nods, distracted at the moment. Derek’s shirt is rucked up a little, jeans riding low on his hips, and Stiles can see a bruise that hasn’t healed yet. Reaching out, Stiles presses his fingers on the bruise making Derek grunt.  
  
“How long will they all last?” Stiles asks.  
  
“Depends,” Derek says simply.  
  
Stiles flicks his gaze to him, quirking an eyebrow. “On _what_ exactly?”  
  
“How long my body can withstand it. I can only slow it down for so long before the healing kicks in, but for now? I’m going to enjoy them.” Derek smiles, cupping Stiles’ cheek. “I like them.”  
  
Stiles rubs his cheek against Derek’s palm, sighing contentedly. “I better get going.” He wraps his arms around Derek’s waist hugging him, face pressed into Derek’s neck. “Love you, little red corvette.”  
  
Derek doesn’t let Stiles leave until he’s spanked him, thoroughly, for that.

**Author's Note:**

> All my undying love goes to [stripedteacups](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stripedteacups/) for being a champion with her beta skills, and making sure everything sounds right and makes sense. You're a goddess and I love you.
> 
> This has actually been split into 2 parts, so part 6 will be the final installment! You won't have to wait a week for it, though, because it's all finished. I just have a few tweaks to make. Tentative posting of that will be Sunday or Monday. So keep an eye out!
> 
> I'm really, really picky with what I name things, so it took a bit for me to find the right name for Derek's garage. After asking for some help on Twitter, the funny names Stiles mentions are all from the hilarious and dirty minds of some friends of mine. So thanks to Anna, for Naked Wrench Handler; Kami, for Ashes & Lube; Girl'Brien for Rev Your Engine.
> 
> If you feel so inclined to listen to any of the songs featured in this series, [have this handy dandy playlist](http://grooveshark.com/#!/playlist/Impromptu+Domestic+Sexual+Karaoke/83387895) I've put together. The only songs not included are those in part 6.
> 
> Don't be shy, come say hi to me over on tumblr! I'm [ionsquare](http://ionsquare.tumblr.com/) over there too. :)


End file.
